


the opposite of jealous

by Eleanor_Lambb



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Fingering, Oral Sex, Other, bloodhound is a stone butch, but they arent throughout the whole fic so whats the point, drama in the club, lesbian bloodhound, lesbian wraith, silly stuff between partners, theres other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleanor_Lambb/pseuds/Eleanor_Lambb
Summary: wraith isn't worried





	1. Chapter 1

The outside air is warm, but a cool breeze brushes aside any discomfort the heat may offer. The moon shines brightly, illuminating the outside bar patio, along with dozens of different - colored lights. Waves of people dance, drink, crowd and chat together, deafeningly loud.

Wraith sits at the bar, watching her companions dance and drink their hearts out. Though Wraith doesn't drink, or dance, or speak to anyone who approaches her, or pay attention to the asinine happenings around her, she doesn't mind being out with her coworkers. Even if the crowd gave her a slight migraine, and caused the Void to pulse slightly, showing her the ins - and - outs of the area, she enjoyed seeing her fellow Legends dance with each other, and with fans, and watch them have fun. It brought her an emotion she can only describe as content joy.

Besides, tonight is different from their usual nights out. It's their first night out with the new Legend, Octane. Wraith can only describe him as suicidally indestructible. _He's too bold for his own good, too loud, his ego too big, too....extreme._ He's quick on his feet, and Wraith is almost impressed that he can keep up with her in the Arena. _Almost_. He's a complete headache as an opponent, zipping around, jumping at extreme heights. _At least his aim is shaky._

He dresses the same out of the arena as he does inside. He wears tight cargo shorts, and a vest that exposes his chest and midriff, fingerless gloves and elbow pads on. He still has his headwear on, and a heavy - looking gold chain around his neck. Lifeline is having a _ball_ dancing with him, and he easily maneuvers around her on his prosthetics, taking her hand and dipping her. Their forms ripple with outlines.

**Just friends. Lifeline will not let it go further than that. She has her eye on another.**

Wraith's gaze picks up to Bangalore, who's standing to the side, a beer with a lime in her hand, watching with an amused grin.

Bloodhound bumps her with an elbow. They hold two beers with lime slices in their hands.

"Have you seen Makoa, dearest? He asked me to grab him a drink, and now I can't seem to find him," They're dressed in their usual casual attire, but wearing a sleeveless, shorter version of their coat, a dark maroon bodysuit tight on their skin, outlining the muscles of their thick arms and legs.

It's been four months since Bloodhound had confessed their true feelings for Wraith, and Wraith met them with open arms and kisses and never wanted to let them go. They still kept their relationship under wraps, but during times where Bloodhound was sure there were no prying ears or eyes, they let slip pet names and affectionate touches. Wraith especially liked stealing kisses while everyone's backs were turned.

It was perfect.

"You get him a drink, but not me?" Wraith jokes.

Bloodhound shrugs, and Wraith can almost feel their smile from behind their mask.

"Hold on," Wraith says, and stares into the crowd. When she channels the Void through her mind's eye, she can read the lines of reality around her. The ghostly visage of Gibraltar heads to the men's room, "Bathroom."

"Ah," Bloodhound takes an open seat next to her, placing Gibraltar's beer to the side, "Seems he'll have to wait."

"How has he been? Since Octane showed up, he's been pretty distant," Which was much, much different than the positive and warm Gibraltar Wraith had come to know. He welcomed Mirage and Caustic with open arms, even if Caustic was an evil freak.

Bloodhound taps the lime into their beer, sticking a straw through the neck, "Distant is pretty on - the - nose. But more than distant, he carries a deep sadness. Have you ever looked him in his eyes?"

"No."

"I have. I've never seen a man more heartbroken than him."

Wraith raises her eyebrows, "Are you saying...?"

Bloodhound nods, "Yes. He hasn't confirmed it outright, but his words sound so heavy when he speaks them. That's just Makoa, Octavio is _much_ less subtle," they look straight.

Following their gaze, Wraith watches Gibraltar exit the bathroom. Octane stops his excited prancing with Lifeline. Though he has his mask on, Wraith knows he mutters words to his dance partner, who nods her head and smirks. He rushes over to Gibraltar.

**He will be turned down. Again. He and Ajay will walk home together, and he will voice his woes. Makoa will go home, alone, try to sleep his heartbreak off.**

Wraith exhales, "Ouch," _Messy breakups. Never a good thing._

Not that Wraith can remember any messy breakups from her past. She likes to think that they're as messy as daytime reality TV pretends them to be, but she knows that most are much less hostile, more awkward.

Bloodhound, "You've stolen the words right out of my mouth."

**Right, someone's coming.**

Turning her head, a figure saunters their way through the crowd. They're young, with a mess of short strawberry - blonde hair. Wraith tries to stay to the figure's shining blue eyes, but is distracted by a large, rippling scar over their left cheek. The young woman smiles broadly.

"Ah, I thought you two had left already!" She says. She wears a white romper with a blue beret, gladiator sandals on her feet. She holds an empty beer bottle in her hand, "Some get - together, right? It's such a beautiful night."

Bloodhound stands from their seat, "Natalie, good to see you," they hold a hand out, but Natalie goes straight in for a hug, and a friendly kiss on their masked cheek.

Wraith grins. _Natalie Paquette, daughter of the lead electrical engineer for the Apex Games, Luc Paquette_. She was a young, fresh face, one that Wraith had come to know warmly. She was a bright, friendly woman, who's child - like glee for engineering and electricity was only matched by her charm and wit.

Natalie places her empty bottle down, wrapping her soft arms around Wraith's shoulders, giving her a kiss on the cheek. The contact is unwanted, but instead of breaking away, Wraith simply shoots Bloodhound a uncomfortable stare. Bloodhound chuckles.

"Is that a smile I see, Wraith?" Natalie asks as she pulls back, her vanilla perfume still lingering.

Wraith shrugs, "I've been known to do that, at times."

The music changes, and Natalie gasps, "Oh, I _love_ this song! Come, dance with me, Wraith!" she grabs Wraith's hands, trying to pull her up

"I don't think so," Wraith firmly stays in her seat, "I don't dance."

Laughing low, Bloodhound slides to Natalie's side, "I, however, do."

 _No you don't_ , Wraith wants to say, but for the sake of Natalie leaving her be, she keeps her thoughts to herself. Beaming, Natalie lets go of Wraith's wrists, grasping onto Bloodhound's and pulling them onto the dancefloor. Natalie leads them to the center, joining Lifeline and Pathfinder, who are busy doing an intensely complex salsa. Even from across the room, Wraith can see Lifeline's eyes burn with determination.

With an amused grin, Wraith watches Bloodhound shift and sway stiffly on the dancefloor. Natalie bounces and moves energetically, creating a hilarious dynamic between the two dancers.

The song changes, slowing, and Natalie smiles and laughs, and wraps her arms around Bloodhound's shoulders.

Leaning her elbows back onto the bar, the Void hums, then speaks.

 **Left**.

Mirage comes walking up. He's dressed in a white button - down, most of his top buttons undone, showing off a hairy chest, tan shorts and slip - on shoes. He smells strongly of expensive cologne.

"Hey, Wraith," he says with a smile, leaning close, "Have you seen Gibraltar anywhere?"

"Bathroom," she looks back to the spot she saw Octane and Gibraltar in, seeing them gone.

Using his charm and a few credits, Mirage flags down a bartender, and grabs himself another beer. He sits on a seat next to Wraith, watching Bloodhound and Natalie.

"Quiet a couple, those two," he says.

"I'll say," _Just look at Bloth, trying to dance. They look like a children's animatronic._

A slight ring in her head, and the outlines of Bloodhound and Natalie warble and mix.

**She has a crush on them. She wants to see them out of their clothes.**

Wraith grins.

"You think they're cute?" Mirage asks, shooting her a mischievous smile, "Those two, together," Mirage sips his beer, "Can't imagine Bloodhound bringing anyone home, though. They're so eni - engi - enigi.....mysterious."

Subtle and coy, Wraith simply shrugs. She is no adrenaline junkie, but she can't deny that there's a certain thrill to being with Bloodhound under the watchful eyes of the other Legends.

"What do you think?" he asks her.

"I think it's none of my business who they're with."

"What about little Nat?"

"She's cute, but not my type."

" _Oooh_ ," Mirage smirks, leans forward, "What _is_ your type then?"

"Not you, Witt."

"Oh, _come on_ , this isn't flirting!" and he gasps at the look Wraith throws him, " _It isn't!_ Just some con - cona - conve....banter, s'all."

**Not interested in you. Too ominous, too threatening, too short.**

Wraith simply makes a _Hm_ sound, and looks back into the crowd. Blue and white lights dance around Bloodhound and Natalie, and Natalie must be _gone_ , because her eyes are closed, and her forehead is pressed to Bloodhound's, who's tall and broad form is leaning down. She mutters something, pouty lips moving slow.

"Aw, well will you look at that," Mirage leans his cheek on his palm, heaving a dramatic sigh.

 _Looks like young love to me_ , Wraith is about to joke, until Natalie's head picks up, and her lips press against the front of Bloodhound's mask.

Wraith's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. The two's outlines mix and meld, vibrate through the crowd.

**She likes them. Likes them a lot. Liquid courage.**

The kiss is short - lived, as Bloodhound doesn't reciprocate. In fact, they freeze. Natalie smiles as she pulls back, but the present quickly catches up with her, and that smile falls.

Wraith looks at Mirage through her peripherals. He's staring at her, jaw dropped. He let's out an amused, loud laugh.

"OK, I was _totally_ kidding about this, but.... _wow_."

" _Wow_ is right," Wraith says, not fighting the grin on her lips. The music turns upbeat quickly, and couples either leave the floor or move with the music. Natalie splits off in one direction, quickly, flushed. Bloodhound doesn't attempt to follow. They retreat off of the crowded dance floor and back to the bar, broad shoulders slightly slumped.

"Those were some moves on the dancefloor, Blood," Mirage says loudly with a wide smirk.

Bloodhound exhales, "The Allfather may be aiding me in battle, but he does not aid me in dance."

"Didn't look like Nat minded too much."

They shake their head, "I think that's enough partying for one night," they look to Wraith, "Feel like heading back with me?"

"Oh, I don't know, Bloth," Wraith lounges against the bar, waving a bartender over, who brings her a soda, "I'm enjoying the music. It's a nice night, seems like a shame to leave so early," she takes a sly sip.

"Yeah, Blood," Mirage orders another beer, poking in a straw, "Sit down, nurse your heartache," he holds the beer out for them.

Bloodhound sighs, with a disapproving shake of their head at Mirage, before taking the beer and plopping between the two. Mirage wraps an arm around their broad shoulders.

"Aw, don't feel so _bad_ , Blood. There's plenty girls out there who would love to kiss a rigid piece of metal who smells like birds," he gestures with a broad sweep of his free arm into the crowd. His smirk falls slightly, "Wait, do you even like women?"

Bloodhound doesn't respond with anything more than an annoyed grunt.

"You better watch what you say, Witt," Wraith says, "Don't forget who's number three on the board."

Mirage waves a finger, "N-Not for long! Besides, Blood knows I'm joking....right?"

Bloodhound doesn't respond, sipping silently from their straw.

"Right, Blood?"

No response.

Mirage sucks in a tense breath through his teeth, " _Ah_ , I'm gonna pay for this on the weekend, aren't I?"

Wraith finishes her soda, crossing her arms, "Do you have to ask?"

Mirage chirps annoyingly in Bloodhound's ear for a few more minutes, then sees Gibraltar across the dance floor, and abandons his task of poking fun at Bloodhound to speak with him. As soon as he's out of earshot, Wraith bumps Bloodhound in their elbow.

"Finish your beer. I'll be outside whenever you're ready."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yikes this took forever LMAO...........follow me on twitter @dykebloodhound
> 
> enjoy....idk where to go from this im thinking of writing a new fic for each legend that comes out. so wattson, crypto, and then revenant. yee
> 
> thanks everyone for reading.....lets get to more than 9 fics in the blood/wraith tag yall we can do it

Wraith follows the Voice through the crowd, maneuvering easily in small pockets of space until she's outside the club. She smooths down her black shirt, leaning against a tall lamppost. She circles the pole, eyes scanning the passing people on the street. Tireless cars zip by, drones and droids passing through the skies. She's outside ten minutes before the Voice speaks.

 **Behind**.

Bloodhound exits the club, shoulders back and head raised as paparazzi follow them with their cameras, striding up to Wraith. She flashes them a sly grin, but when they pick their head up, they shake their head.

"So what happened?" Wraith asks, expression dropping.

Bloodhound exhales, jerking their head to the side. Wraith follows. Bloodhound doesn't speak for a few paces, then Wraith hears them sigh.

"I am not used to breaking the hearts of young women," they say, voice heavy, "But it had to be done."

"What did you say to her?" Wraith slips an arm into theirs.

"That I was flattered," they pat Wraith's arm, walking slow, "But that, in my good conscious, I cannot reciprocate her feelings, and that she is better off with someone else."

"How did she take it?" Wraith asks.

"Maturely, and with grace. She was embarrassed, but I think it was mostly the alcohol in her system that ruled over her common sense."

"Poor kid."

"Mhm. Besides, I cannot give someone what I do not have."

"And what's that?"

"My affections. That," they tap the tip of Wraith's nose, "Is reserved for a very special woman in my life."

Wraith shows off a soft grin, "And who might that be?"

Bloodhound shrugs, "A coworker. I think you would like her. She keeps to herself, mainly, but she has a nice sense of humor. And she has the most lovely smile."

Wraith huffs a soft chuckle, pulling her hood up as they walk back to their apartment complex.

  
-

As Wraith undresses, shedding sweaty layers and throwing them into a hamper (Which Bloodhound had prompted her to get _. 'If you're worried about messes and laundry, why not get a basket?')_ she can't help but notice Bloodhound's rigid form sitting on the bed. They breathed, and moved like a living being, but at times they reminded Wraith of a statue. The two barely spoke as soon as they entered her apartment. Wraith chalked it up to them both being tired, but the silence was too glaring.

"Something wrong, Bloth?" She asks, leaving herself in tight black boxer - briefs, and no top. She steps towards her bed, standing between Bloodhound's legs.

Smoothing over her hips, Bloodhound speaks, "How did you feel when Natalie tried to kiss me, dearest?"

 _Is that it? They're feeling guilty over one kiss?_ "I wasn't worried, if that's what you mean."

"You trust me enough to know I would never step outside the boundaries we've placed?" They don't raise their head.

"Of course I do. What good is being partners if there's no trust?" She traces the goggles of their mask, "Why?"

Hands smooth over her thighs, "Ah, forgive me, lovely, I did not mean to worry you. I was under the impression that it may have made you uncomfortable."

"It was something to see, sure, but I didn't mind," she leans into Bloodhound, pushing them down into the bed, "I know you're mine. I'm not worried about anyone stealing you away from me."

Bloodhound chuckles, slipping their hands under her boxers and squeezing her backside, "I'm yours?"

"That's right," Wraith says, grabbing their wrists and pinning them to the mattress, "All mine," she kisses them, pressing her weight down.

Softness turns harsher, and Bloodhound sheds their pants and coat, leaving them in their maroon bodysuit, covered by a padded chest - piece, mask, and boxers. They speak as Wraith peppers kisses onto their goggles.

"Ah, lovely, hand me the Mouthpiece?"

Wraith grins, and pulls back, reaching under her bed. Since the first month they were together, the two had quickly found reach - arounds and other ways to be intimate together without crossing over any lines. Wraith answered a knock at her door one day, and there Bloodhound was, bags in their arms filled with items from a local sex shop. Expensive pieces of equipment that Wraith could only describe as _impressive_.

 _"It surely will be worth every penny, lovely_ ," Bloodhound said as they laid out each item on Wraith's counter.

Wraith opens the large box she kept under her bed. She brushes aside phallic objects and lubes for a specific, smaller box. It was black wood, hefty and intricately carved. This piece she picked up a few months after Bloodhound's initial shopping spree.

The seller she dealt with referred to the item only as ' _The Mouthpiece_ ,' and all she had to do was bring in a copy of Bloodhound's mask, and the credits up front. The excitement Bloodhound showed Wraith when she showed up to their apartment with the item was nuclear.

Luckily, Bloodhound had left the Mouthpiece at her apartment the last time they spent the night together.

Wraith turns her head and closes her eyes as she hands Bloodhound the box. She feels the weight in her hands lift, hears some shuffling, and then feels a light tap on her shoulder.

"It's on," Bloodhound says.

Their normal mask was off, replaced by a sleek, black copy. Instead of a respirator unit on their mouth, there was an enlarged replica of the jaw, mouth and nose of a human skull. Instead of blunt human teeth, there were pointed fangs that glowed pink at the tips from LEDs implanted inside (Wraith couldn't decide a color, and her indecision and the seller's suggestions steered her towards pink.) Black leather straps held the mask snugly in place.

Wraith smiles, kisses their teeth.

"Oh, my lovely," Bloodhound coos, the synthetic mouth moving as they spoke, "I love you," they slide their usual mask to the nightstand. Wraith loves the way their voice sounds without the respirator, or another filter muffling and distorting it.

They attempt to lean Wraith down, but she instead uses her momentum to push them back against the mattress. Bloodhound sighs as Wraith runs her hands over their body, squeezing where she pleased. She stops only to pull off her boxers.

It's rare for Wraith to allow herself to be seen so naked. Even after the two had decided to become serious and committed to each other, she still kept a bra or shirt on, even if it were bunched up at her collarbone.

Nakedness was akin to defenselessness, and Wraith was opposed to being completely defenseless. But Bloodhound was someone she could lose herself in, who she felt completely safe with. The one person who made everything else in the world melt away with a few sweet words and soft touches. They didn't even have to say anything, or touch her. All they had to do was be in the same room, and Wraith felt that, maybe, there was more to life than just her missing memories and the Voice in her head.

"How would you like it, lovely?" Bloodhound asks, "Lying down?" Their hand travels down to between her legs, threading through the thick hair collected there.

Wraith thinks a moment, thumbing at the lower jaw of the mask, "Hm...you stay right there."

Bloodhound responds with a nod, unmoving. Wraith crawls up their body, positioning herself over their mask, facing their legs. Silk - covered thumbs part her lower lips. Bloodhound hums, though Wraith would more alike it to a purr.

"Pretty," they say, "You look so delicate from my position."

There's no hot breath against her bare skin, but the smooth, lubricated tongue of the mask licks at her opening. The mask was designed so that Bloodhound's tongue could slip into a small, sensory sleeve, so every roll of their own tongue was copied by the mask's synthetic one. Wraith presses down, her chest flush with their stomach, bracing her hips upward more. They gently lick and nip at the surrounding labia, until the skin around turns swollen and pink.

Unhurried, Wraith relaxes, smoothing her hands down Bloodhound's thighs. She kisses the slight bulge of Bloodhound's belly.

Bloodhound's thighs shift in response. They sigh heavily, "Lovely, you're distracting me."

Wraith smirks, "Good," she squeezes their belly, drawing out a low sigh. Strong hands lift her hips higher, and she feels the warm tip of the mask's tongue prod at her opening.

"Maybe this will keep you still," they rumble.

A slick, long muscle pushes into her, and Wraith can't stop the loud moan it pulls out. It pushes deep, writhes inside, pulsing hotly. Bloodhound pushes it in and out, slow and rhythmic, steady as a heartbeat. Wraith grinds back, meeting each push of their tongue.

" _Phwoar_ ," Wraith presses her chest down. She closes her eyes, balling her fists in the sheets. Bloodhound pulls out, rubbing Wraith's clit with their tongue. One of their hands releases her thigh, two fingers teasing at her. In response, Wraith shifts back, "Bloth."

Bloodhound tuts, "Impatient."

"Yeah," Wraith mutters, "That's me."

Bloodhound laughs, "I keep forgetting, forgive me," they push Wraith's hips up, "Turn around, lovely."

She does, Bloodhound coaxing her hips down. She presses her wait on the skeletal mouth, Bloodhound opening their mouth, pink tongue sliding up and over Wraith's clit. Wraith slips her fingers between Bloodhound's, pinning their hands above their head. They gasp, fingers tightening. Wraith grinds down, the slick tongue of the mask rolling in tandem. Warmth pools between her legs.

"Fuck," she says. She stares down at the goggles of the mask, trying to picture the eyes behind.

The tongue retracts, "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that," They say.

Wraith smiles, "What? Not gonna be able to control yourself?"

There's a beat of silence, and Wraith ends up flat on her back in the blink of an eye. Bloodhound has both her wrists pinned above her head in one hand, the other thumbing between her legs. Wraith shifts into Bloodhound's hand.

"See? I told you," Bloodhound says, low and heavy, "I can't help myself," They push two fingers into Wraith, curling up, making Wraith's hips jerk. They breathe out, heavy, "Pretty thing," They scissor their fingers, drawing them in and out of Wraith, harsh and quick.

Wraith's eyes flutter, eyes focusing on the slick that drips down the front of Bloodhound's mask. The hand around her wrists loosen, moving Wraith's hair out of her face. Wraith takes this opportunity to hook her fingers at the edges of the mask, pulling them down, lips awkwardly finding purchase on the sleek skeletal mouth, tasting salt. Bloodhound's fingers caress and fuck Wraith with vigor. Wraith's heels dig into the mattress, hips meeting Bloodhound's hand, feeling the pressure in her gut fill to the brim.

" _Bloth_ , _fuck_ ," She leans her head back, squeezes her eyes shut, feeling Bloodhound move away from her. When her eyes flutter open, Bloodhound is staring. She smiles wide, "I love it when you look at me like that," Dirty talk was, by all accounts, not Wraith's forte. But Bloodhound, no matter how awkward or stiff Wraith's delivery, seemed to revel in it.

Bloodhound looms over her, the pink of the neon signs outside outlining their body. The lights blur as Wraith's eyes water.

" _Bloth_ ," She slides her fingers under the straps around their head, pulling at the fabric of their hood _, "Bloth_."

Bloodhound tuts, sliding their fingers through Wraith's hair, "Easy....I've got you, easy."

Wraith's mouth falls open, all thought escaping her, grasping at Bloodhound's mask again to pull them in. Her teeth grind together, gnashing at the Mouthpiece as the coil in her gut loosens. Her eyes roll, mind blanking. Her moans catch in her throat, ending up broken, shaking the glass of the windows.

Bloodhound is still the whole time, becoming an anchor for Wraith to latch onto. No matter how harshly she thrashes, Bloodhound is there, being the steadiness she needs, unmoving, even when Wraith digs her fingers into the sleeves of their bodysuit.

Wraith's chest heaves, eyes closed. Bloodhound's fingers withdraw, slowly, and Wraith can feel fluid leak between her thighs. She runs her fingers delicately over the mask's teeth, like it was made of fine glass. Bloodhound's mouth parts, Wraith dragging her fingerpads on the pointed ends they expose. She grins softly, opening her eyes.

Wordlessly, Bloodhound presses themselves down into her. They nest themselves into her side, arms around her waist and their head tucked into her chest.

"......I have to pee."

"No, you don't," Bloodhound says, "I am too comfortable."

Wraith sighs. She loved cuddling, and she was especially fine with a post - coital cuddle, but nature called, and she couldn't deny it, "C'mon..."

"No."

"Don't make me do..... _The Thing_."

Bloodhound picks their head up slightly, "What's _The Thing_ \- "

And before they can finish, a portal opens up beneath the two, and spits the two out a foot above the carpet. The transition makes Wraith's skin goosebump. Wraith has no problem catching herself, the portals closing behind. She stretches her arms up, feeling a burn in her thighs. She looks down at Bloodhound, who's staring up, pink LEDs of their mask glowing. A hand reaches, drags up one ankle and her calf.

"Have I ever told you that it is _incredibly_ sexy when you open Void Portals in bed?"

Wraith snorts. She's done it twice, so far, but it always feels wasteful after the fact. She never knows when IMC agents might come for her. She'd rather not be caught between a rock and a hard place with a main means of escape cut off.

She starts walking to the bathroom, but stops when she hears Bloodhound call out.

"I love you," they say, the slightest hint of sing - song in their voice.

Wraith is awful, terrible, horrible, with expressing herself with words. She goes to the bathroom, comes back out, and Bloodhound is still on the floor, legs crossed and still on their back. Wraith kneels and lays down on the carpet next to them, turning on her side.

"Now we can cuddle."

Bloodhound makes a low sound of appreciation, shuffling into Wraith's arms. They part her legs, settling between, limbs quickly becoming tangled. She kisses their mask.

"You should switch this out," she says.

" _Ach_ , you're right, lovely. I almost forgot," the Mouthpiece wasn't optimal for sleeping.

They untangle themself, and instead of standing on their own, they hook their arms underneath Wraith, hauling her up bridal - style. Wraith snorts loudly as she's dumped on the bed, turning onto her belly and looking at the wall as Bloodhound changes their mask. The edge of the bed dips, Bloodhound's hand trailing up her back.

Wraith relaxes. It's the few times she does. She finds herself at ease with Bloodhound around. It should be something to worry about, as any IMC operative could locate her and come for her at any moment. She needed to be on her game, at all times, but with Bloodhound, she just....couldn't.

They were a shield, a guard, blocking out stress, outstretching a hand to help, lending an ear to listen. They were a rock, her rock, a steady place for Wraith to hold onto from bad rounds to being by her side when she successfully cracks an IMC system to when her fingers went numb and her mind didn't want to be in her body anymore.

That was love, wasn't it? To find yourself completely secure with another? To find that safety that you could let your guard down around? No biting words, no piercing stare, no shadow to curl around you?

She shivers. In calm, warm silence, Bloodhound pulls the blanket up on her body. They slide in next to her, she turning on her side, them pressing their chest to her back. Strong arms circle her, their broadness enveloping her, dispelling a cold Wraith didn't even know was there. They nuzzle the back of her head, breathing deep.

"You smell so sweet, lovely," They say.

Knowing she smells like sweat and people's spilled beer, Wraith scrunches her nose.

"Don't make that face," Bloodhound says, hips and chest flush with Wraith's backside.

"I should shower."

" _Tomorrow_ ," They insist, clutching her tighter, "I am not letting you go this time."

  
-

  
Wraith inhales deep, eyes flashing open. Another night of dreamless sleep, uninterrupted. Before she and Bloodhound started seeing one another, she'd go days without sleeping, or only sleep for a few hours a night. She flips onto her belly, staring out the window. It's overcast, sunlight coming and going through the breaks in the clouds. She slides her hand to her Cell on the nightstand, opening it up. It's just past 10 in the morning. She sits up, stretches her arms and back out, doesn't bother to pull on clothes as she walks out of her room. As soon as she leaves her bedroom, the scent of eggs and bacon takes over her senses, runs a growl through her stomach.

Bloodhound is standing at the stove, flipping pancakes, singing along to a song on the radio. They do a shuffle, a waddle, and motion with the spatula in their hand, dancing....or something like it. Wraith leans against the hallway entrance, watching. They hum along brokenly, the song battered with English and Icelandic.

Wraith pushes away from the hallway, quietly creeping up behind, thankful for the carpet and it's muffling of her footsteps. She slides up behind them, hands up.

"Bloth!" She yells out, grabbing their sides.

Bloodhound hops a foot in the air, spatula clattering onto the counter. They are still, for a few moments, then pick up the spatula, humming to the music and cooking like nothing has happened.

"Good morning my love," they say, "Did I wake you? I had to go back to my apartment and feed my birds, so I thought I'd pick up some things for breakfast," they gesture to a tea pot, left to boil on a flame, "You were out of tea, too."

The prepare breakfast for Wraith. It's the only real time Wraith ever eats a full meal. Bloodhound says nothing about her nakedness, but their gaze lingers on her body. As they set the plate and tea down for her, she rides her hand up their thigh.

"Maybe we can skip breakfast," she says with a smirk, and a cheeky, joking wink.

Bloodhound simply stares at them, unfazed, ".......After all the time I spent cooking this breakfast for you? Don't be silly," they pull up a chair, motioning to the food, "Eat, eat."

Wraith leans over, kisses them on one metal cheek, "You know I love you, Bloth."

"Mhm," Bloodhound turns their head, pecking like a bird lightly at Wraith's lips, "And I love you."

Breakfast is eaten over low chattering of the night before, but the two end up devolving into comfortable silence. A message appears on Wraith's Cell. She picks it up, eyebrows furrowing.

"Hey," she says, "Check this out."

The message is from an AI run by the games. Usually it only contacted the Legends telling them when the next matches were, and other details. This message was in bright red, exclamation points dotted around. She opens in up, and within the message in big white lettering on a red background reads:

**WARNING TO ALL APEX LEGENDS AND FUTURE CHAMPIONS. SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY CAPTURED BY ARENA SURVEILLANCE. IF YOU SEE ANYTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY DURING, OR OUTSIDE OF, MATCHES, PLEASE ADVISE APEX SHOWRUNNERS.**

And attached was a photo. It was blurry as Hell, and captured through the thick glass window of some part of the arena Wraith had forgotten the name of. There was a figure, that much was clear, in what looked like a lab coat and a black hat.

Bloodhound's head tilts, "I wonder who that could be?"

Wraith shakes her head, "Don't know. Some fan who crashed the games?"

"Doesn't look like a fan. A fan would've gotten caught," they point to a green dot next to the figure, "And what's that? How can these showrunners afford state - of - the - art cameras to capture every speck of blood and dust but can't capture a single clear photo of a person who breaks into the arena," the tsk, "Does it say when it's from?"

"Mm....Timestamp says last night. What do you think they're looking for?"

"I don't know," Bloodhound leans back, "Could be a fan," they shrug, "Could be a terrorist attack, could be somebody with motivations neither of us could possibly understand, but..." They shake their head, "If all we have is a blurry photo of a person, and we can't even say for sure it's a _person_ , then we just have to wait and see what happens."

Wraith shrugs, "Feels like it should be a big deal, but...it probably has nothing to do with either of us, right?"

Bloodhound nods, "I feel the same. If they were after any of the other Legends or, Allfather forbid, _you_ , they wouldn't take the chance and get caught on the arena grounds knowing that we could be alerted."

The thought of others like her crosses Wraith's mind. Others who could travel through portals, who were saved by a version of themselves and now exist to look for who they were and wreak havoc against the ones who put them in that situation. Wraith wasn't the only one down in those labs, she couldn't be the only Voidwalker, either.

Wraith pushes up from the table, picking up her dishes, only to be tutted back into her seat by Bloodhound.

" _No no no_ ," they say, putting a hand on Wraith's shoulder, "You finish your tea. How about a walk around the shops today?" They take her dishes.

Wraith leans back into her chair, "Your birds finally peck too many holes in your coat?"

Bloodhound sucks air through their teeth, "Yes and no. My friends have not turned my coat threadbare, but it is no longer in a state that I can wear it with confidence anymore. Too many bullet holes," they return to the table.

Having not put her hair up, Wraith's hair is wild and messy. Bloodhound takes a stray lock and pushes it out of her face.

"When would you like to leave?" They say.

Wraith smirks, lifting out of her chair and into Bloodhound's lap, "Maybe later."

"Oh, but your tea, my dear. It'll get cold," their hands trail up the back of her thighs.

Wraith doesn't respond, kissing the sides of their mask.

"......OK," they say, grabbing her backside, "Tea can wait."

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: changed how wraith's backstory and powers worked since this was wirtten before her Voidwalker event cinematic was published. Very srry the second chapter is taking forever to come out :( im a little stuck atm, but its coming, stay tuned!
> 
> UH ok if anyone is wondering i originally, because i cant read, thought that Octane and Gibraltar were exes and Octane lost his legs in the motorcycle accident but OFC im stupit and thats not true.........but i have a personal headcanon that they are exes and broke up on bad terms but they still like eachother. maybe i'll write a fic about them but Uh octane is hard 2 write So,
> 
> i literally am obsessed with writing all the legends interacting with eachother i think they're so much fun. i havent played wattson in game yet so forgive me if anything seems OOC
> 
> also this is pre-legend wattson which is why i refer to her as "Natalie" and not "Wattson" like the other legends.
> 
> oh fuck im rambling. RIP sry yall im crazy. idk when ill post the next chapter hopefully soon.
> 
> OK IM CRAZY SORRY THANKS FOR READING


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